Free writing workshop for aspiring authors of young adult and middle grade fiction. The first five pages may be all that agents, editors, and readers read, so get them right with the help of three authors over the course of three weeks. During the third week, an agent will also critique your pages and your pitch and pick a workshop winner - the prize is a partial request!

Saturday, September 5, 2015

1st 5 Pages September Workshop - Pohl

It
penetrates the whole body through the nostrils, pungent andfeverish.
The prelude to death.

That's
what the cabin smelled like -- as soon as I opened the door,there was
that overwhelming smell of blood. The smell of death. I knewI was in
the right place only by that.

I ignored
the creaking door and the breeze that the wind broughtinside --
the winter was gone past and I had no fear of winds. A ravencawed
outside, the single noise among the deadness of this place.

There was
no avoiding what came next -- there never was. I didn't knowhow many
times I had done this before -- how many scenes like this, tothe point
where I was not able to distinguish which ones are dreamsand which
are real. It didn't matter anyway.

The body
lay on the wooden floor. It was a woman and she had beenstabbed
multiple times. I tiptoed my way around the room, avoidingwhere the
blood had touched. After all this years, I had learned notto stain
my clothes. I held my breath as I smelled her death, herblood and
her nightmares. Her nightmares smelled like shadows and herdeath
sang around the room. I did not know this woman's name.

But she
knew mine.

"Tatiana
Koscheiovna" she said, with her last will. Her finalwords.Daughter
of bones, daughter of blood, daughter of death. "Haveyou come
for me?"

There was
no relief on her voice, like there isn't in any of theothers.
She knew she was as good as dead. Her body lay violated andbroken in
her own house, having suffered the most violent of deaths.My
appearance only confirmed what she already knew.

"Yes"
I answered. "I have come for you."

#

Outside,
the smell of death vanished. For a moment I almost forgot Iwas awake
the entire time. It was not often that those who had diedviolently
saw the spirit of the violent death in person before theyleft this
world.

My hands
slided back to my fur coat. I could barely remember the womanin the
cabin, her bones already forgotten by this world. Sixteen yearsof
ferrying the spirits and it never got any easier -- at least, notfor me.
The third daughter of Koschei, born on the dark winter night.Even the
one who wasn't wanted had duties to fulfill.

"Did
you find it?" Morena's voice echoed in the clearing in front of me.

In a
moment, the raven materialized into shadows and then into thegoddess
of nightmares. Her appearance never failed to take my breathaway, as
if for a moment my nightmares had come alive. She stood withher dark
clothes and dark skin against the bleak setting of the dyingwoods, a
vision among mortals. Her crow pendant hung from her neck,bright
silver, the only color among her figure.

"Yes"
I answered through gritted teeth.

I threw
her the bloody dagger, still wet from the body that was not socold
inside the wooden cabin. An anonymous cadaver. Morena caught itwith
extreme ease. Her eyes turned to appraise me, dark andmysterious,
a pitch of endless black.

"Are
you awake or asleep?"

It took
me a few moments. "Awake."

"Very
good" she nodded her head. "How did you know?"

I wanted
to answer her that I know by the smell. That I know what itfeels
like when I ferry the souls awake or when I am asleep. In truth,neither
of them matters -- they always come to me, no matter what. IfI don't
come to them, I'll find them when I close my eyes. In thisworld,
there is no such thing as escaping duty. And my own burden isthis --
ferry the souls of those who have died a violent death.

My father
tells me it's a noble duty. My sisters tell me I am lucky tohave such
an important task.

None of
them ever have to see the body.

"Luck"
I answered instead, and Morena scowled.

I was not
in the mood for games today. I walked past my godmother,wrapped
in my own fur coat as I stepped further away from the cabinwith the
dead body. This had been one of the closest I ever came tothe
mortal world -- I usually only came here through dreams. Now, morethan
ever, Morena allowed excursions. She thought distinguishingdreams
from wakefulness was important. To me, it never mattered. Bothof them
smelled alike.

Neither
of them really belonged to me.

"Are
in you such a hurry that you need to forget your lessons?" Morenaasked,
keeping pace with me. She's several feet taller than me, hereyes and
cheekbones set perfectly in her aristocratic face. She's atrue
goddess, while I'm the shadowy copy of what ought to be one."Tatiana."

She
called my name and it sent shivers down my spine. Morena's voicewas
powerful, as if she could break through all of my fears andnightmares
and expose them to me until I had lost my mind intodarkness.

The
difference, of course, was that my fears were already all laid outbefore
me. There was nothing left for her to take.

So I kept
walking, my boots pacing evenly against the ground on themortal
world. Where my lungs breathed a little easier, where my bonesweren't
killing me for staying where I didn't belong. I walked back tothe
carriage that took me to the Other Realm without looking back.

#

There was
something strange about the Other Realm. I never put myfinger on
it -- the stark whiteness of the walls, the lack of colorthat
filled everything. The magic of death that flowed between thewalls and
in the air, and that enclosed everything that didn't belongin the
mortal world. The gods were fueled by it, fed by it, andthrived
on it. The same death magic that my Father controlled betterthan
anyone else in the kingdom. The same magic that kept balance onthe
entire universe. Were Koschei to fall, the entire Other Realmwould.

This
would never be a problem. My father was as ancient as deathitself,
and his magic never wavered. Here, every creature that neededmagic to
exist was protected. Everyone except his own daughter.

The crows
flocked around Morena in our arrival, greeting their masterbut went
without acknowledging me. I blew past them in a hurry to getto my
room. I could still feel the smell of blood in my hands, eventhough I
knew it was only paranoia that was putting it there. Therewas no
blood in my hands, and if I could help it, there never wouldbe.

I escaped
Morena's gaze and went to my room as fast as I could,leaving
her to her crows and servants. My room was on the distant partof the
palace, on top of one of the towers. On the better days, Icould
fancy myself as a princess from the old tales, awaiting therescue of
a brave knight. On the worst days, I could look in themirror
and face the truth that nobody would come and rescue the thirdsister.
Not when the only word that followed her was death.

7 comments:

I do not envy Tatiana’s job! It’s an interesting high-concept, that she comes to claim those who are killed violently. I also like the hint that she is somehow an outcast in her family. I’d consider an even clearer statement about this aspect of Tatiana’s life. Was it something she did? Some foreshadowing here could increase our interest.

Overall my main note on this draft would be that I found waking/sleeping distinction hard to follow. It seems to me Tatiana is awake here, but she isn’t always for these “jobs”—but I had to re-read the passage about waking and sleeping that comes with Morena’s arrival. I’d work on clarity here so that you don’t lose whoever is reading the first five!

There are some great details here, such as “After all this years, I had learned not to stain my clothes.” That short sentence packs a lot of punch: it’s a strong sensory detail, it’s concrete, and it gives us a fast insight into what this MC’s life is all about. You even manage to convey something of her personality (practical and world-weary).

In contrast I’d focus in on some of the less concrete phrases. “Her nightmares smelled like shadows” stopped me. What does this mean? What does a shadow smell like? I am always wary of figurative language that doesn’t connect to a real feeling or sensation. This sentence stopped me as well, “It was not often that those who had diedviolently saw the spirit of the violent death in person before theyleft this world.” Is Tatiana the “spirit of violent death”?

She clearly doesn’t like her job (and we can’t blame her). But who is she as a person? World-building is so important in fantasy, but character is still so important! I'd like to learn more about her here at the outset.

I would suggest you tighten up the sequence of the first part of this. As worded, she is telling us about the smell before she opens the door. Then, she is ignoring the creaking (but the door is already open by this point ) and then she finds out the woman knows her name before she actually speaks. You have to be careful that the reaction always comes after the action and not before. The normal sequence is 1) action, 2) physiological reaction, 3) thought.

The later parts seem to be a little heavy on the telling. It also seems to pack a lot into 5 pages. We have 3 different settings in these 5 pages and that doesn't leave much time for the reader to settle into any of them. I think you might want to consider spending a lot longer on this first section and using that scene to really ground the reader in the world.

Hi Laura,I love your opening line! It packs enough intrigue about Tatiana’s story to hook me.I was a little confused about dreams versus being awake. Particularly when Morena asks Tatiana, “Are you awake or asleep?” I want to know more about this. It’s clear that she has to ferry souls any time of day or night, but why is it important for her to be aware of sleep or not? Is it more dangerous to do her job if she’s unaware of her consciousness? I have a feeling this is a big part of your plot, so I’d like to know the stakes. Morena’s character description is very unique: “In a moment, the raven materialized into shadows and then into the goddess of nightmares.” It made me crave more descriptives about Tatiana. Also, why does the magic of the Other Realm protect every creature but Tatiana? And if she hates her position in it, what would happen if she left? This world sounds beautiful and scary! I’m excited to learn more about your main character.

I love stories with grim reapers and the like. I would want to read more but there are a few things holding me back at the moment. For one, the words death, dying, dead were used seventeen times, with eight of those in the opening part. Repetition kills suspense so perhaps use this word sparingly to get the impact.

Then phrases like this: the breeze that the wind brought inside. The breeze is the wind so how does the breeze bring the wind inside?

I was lost with all the dream vs. awake parts, too.

With the opening part, I was a bit lost when he comes into the cabin. He gets there and smells blood then comes inside but the main description is about outside the cabin.

I really had a hard time feeling grounded in the setting because he's telling me he's going into the cabin and finds a dead body and it seems like maybe he's a detective investigating a crime. Then what seemed like a dead woman is now speaking and he's not investigating. I wasn't sure what he was doing at all. I think for me, this reads like purple prose but not very clear. at least for the opening, i want to be able to connect with the mc and feel like i am right there beside them experiencing everything. with this, i was lost.

Great opening line! It drew me in instantly. Your premise is intriguing and holds a lot of promise.

I did have some confusion between being awake and asleep. I understood what the characters were saying but I couldn’t understand why the distinction is so important. Also, just a thought, if Tatiana is a figure of death (and magical, as I am assuming), does she need to sleep? If so, why?

You have several large transitions happening here (from the crime scene to the conversation with Morena to the palace) and I wish you would slow down. Does Tatiana feel mournful about the dying woman or resentful perhaps? Does she want to know what happened to her or is she past caring? I don’t feel as though I know enough about her.

I really, really like this world and am very interested in Tatiana. I love the tone you’re establishing, dark and dreamy and terrifying. The fatal flaw of this draft is the same thing that makes it awesome: your intense creepy world-building. The thing to do is to narrow down and focus so that the reader knows where to look.

I’d cut out all the preamble and start with the paragraph that begins “The body lay on the wooden floor.” That is a serious plunge for the reader, and it’s a mighty little paragraph. I’d stop before the nightmares smell like shadows, though, because it’s too big of a leap for the reader this early on (does it mean something specific to Tatiana, and is that specific thing important? If not – if it’s just figurative language – I’d cut, but you bring up her sense of smell more than once, so maybe it is?).

Maybe this isn’t something to cover thoroughly in your first few pages, but if you could give some small verbal nod to what Tatiana actually does for the woman in the cabin, that would be helpful. “I have come for you” made me think Tatiana was going to take her somewhere.

Like other commenters, I found the dream/awake bits confusing; please clarify. How does Tatiana feel about actually traveling to the mortal world? I want to hear more about the physical sensation of being there – you tell us that she feels physical pain because she doesn’t belong there; but Morena questions Tatiana’s ability to perceive whether she is dreaming/waking, which is confusing if they feel different. Is the difference between dreamwalking and physically visiting the mortal realm important to the rest of the story and/or to Tatiana’s character? It’s super prominent here.

I find myself wanting to see more of Tatiana’s inner struggle, and slightly less of the details of the world’s backstory. What does she particularly dislike about her job? What does that dislike feel like? Is there anything she likes about it (taking the souls away from their pain maybe)? What does she feel about mortals v gods (does she pity/envy the mortals at all, or just want to be a better kind of goddess like Morena)? You’re starting to get there in the last paragraph, and I love it. I bet you could put in more of that personal touch throughout, and it would make this foreign world seem more relatable.

Hi Laura,There is a lot to like in these pages! I can tell where you’re going, and I’m intrigued, but the narrative has a lot of repetition and the wake/dream distinction is confusing. I have a couple of ideas.

First, read it out loud. Your ear will find things your eye might miss. For example, there’s a tense slip - There was no relief on her voice, like there isn't in any of the others. She knew she was as good as dead. As you read it aloud, cut everything repetitive. In the first few lines we have prelude to death, smell of death, and blood twice. Also, try to condense paragraphs when you are basically repeating what we know. Such as here, you don’t need to tell us twice that she’s been doing this for years. If you keep just the powerful words and image, you could easily trim this to one paragraph:

There was no avoiding what came next -- there never was. I didn't knowhow many times I had done this before -- how many scenes like this, tothe point where I was not able to distinguish which ones are dreamsand which are real. It didn't matter anyway.

The body lay on the wooden floor. It was a woman and she had beenstabbed multiple times. I tiptoed my way around the room, avoidingwhere the blood had touched. After all this years, I had learned notto stain my clothes. I held my breath as I smelled her death, herblood and her nightmares. Her nightmares smelled like shadows and herdeath sang around the room. I did not know this woman's name.

Lastly (and your probably going to hate me for saying this!) Think about where to start. I loved this paragraph – it is beautifully written and mysterious. Why not start with this? (just and idea!)

In a moment, the raven materialized into shadows and then into thegoddess of nightmares. Her appearance never failed to take my breathaway, as if for a moment my nightmares had come alive. She stood withher dark clothes and dark skin against the bleak setting of the dyingwoods, a vision among mortals. Her crow pendant hung from her neck,bright silver, the only color among her figure.

FREE FIRST FIVE PAGES WORKSHOP

Our September workshop will open for submissions on Saturday, September 2nd at noon, EST. Participants will be mentored by two published authors through three rounds of revisions and receive additional feedback from our literary agent mentor on their first five pages and their pitch. The agent mentor will offer additional feedback to the best of the five manuscripts in the workshop.